On Monday, healthcare professionals warned us that the spread of coronavirus was going to get much worse and that this week was going to be “really bad.”
Around 2000, a Boston terrier became a member of my daughter’s family quite by accident. One day, while living in Georgia, they arrived at their church and found a Boston hunkered against a glass door, cold and hungry. They brought her home, tried to find her owners to no avail, and then fel…
In early June, my daughter, her family, and I went to Arlington Cemetery in Washington, D.C. to watch the Changing of the Guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. She lives near there and has been to the cemetery several times with friends and family who visit. She had tips on where we should stand as we watched: on the right section of the steps as we faced the Tomb Guard Sentinel who paced back and forth, heels clicking with each turn, rifle on his shoulder. She had to whisper to tell us her reasoning: one of the most interesting things to see is when an accompanying sentinel, called the, walks ahead of the oncoming sentinel, pausing as they enter from the right. Usually, the commander turns sharply, faces the sentinel, and conducts a minutes-long inspection of the sentinel’s rifle and uniform.
We anglers know how excited we are when we decide to go fishing. We grab our equipment and head toward a lake. Then we ask, “Where can we get worms?” Not many stores have a worm department.
Earth Day began on April 22, 1970, when U.S. Sen. Gaylord Nelson promoted a focus on being aware of and solving the nation’s environmental problems.
The event grew and is now an international day with 142 nations taking part. The theme of this year’s national celebration is “End Plastic Pollution.”
Lately, within a period of only a couple of weeks, I have been reminded of the importance of civic groups. While attending the recent auction of the Habitat for Humanity program, I became re-acquainted with several friends and made new ones. I placed a modest bid on an item and actually won …
I went shopping at a thrift store last week and found a gem, a book by Robert Morgan, This Rock. Finding it reminded me of the enjoyment I had in reading another of his books, The Truest Pleasure. As with it, The Rock pulled me into Morgan’s world in the first chapter. I am reading it slowly in order to make it last and will try to limit myself to one chapter a day. Doing so takes discipline.
Morgan writes about my world, that of Appalachia. It is the world of many of the readers of this column. Most, if not all, of Morgan’s novels are about our people and their raw, conflicted lives.
Recently I heard Annie Gaspard Lindor speak. She is from Haiti, and her bright personality enhanced her interaction with a group of high school students. A language teacher at the school invited her because of Lindor’s ability to speak three languages: French, Creole, and English.
Something went terribly wrong when art teacher Becky Guinn of Valley High School underwent heart surgery for a valve replacement at age 54. Her body reacted adversely to the once-commonly used blood thinner, Heparin. Instead of preventing blood clots, the use of the drug created a giant one that broke apart and clogged the capillaries throughout her circulatory system. Called heparin-induced thrombocytopenia, the condition often causes death. Guinn’s medical incident led to the loss of her lower arms and legs.
I have a sister, Carol Newborn, who often “does crafts.” She draws, paints, sews, cuts, and drills as she creates things she usually gives away as gifts. Her basement is a warehouse of supplies, and her job at Walmart — where she has worked for 35 years — gives her easy access and a 10 percent discount to almost everything she needs.
The recent cold weather has forced me to take in more movies than usual—seven during the last six weeks. I watched a tear-jerker, “Wonder;” a musical,” The Greatest Showman;” a historical story, “The Darkest Hour;” a raw mystery, “Three Billboards from Billings, Mo.;”, a comedy, “Jumanju,” science fiction, “Downsizing,” and a movie about journalism, “The Post.”
Through my daughter’s volunteer work with overseas missions, I learned that the goal of some countries is to have no children without a loving family. That ideal is far from being reached, but many leaders of third-world countries and the charities in those countries try to rehabilitate families so children can be returned to their family of origin. It is important for children to be raised in a permanent family situation.
Christmastime is supposed to be joyful. People in grief, though, often experience emptiness. The expectation of how they are supposed to feel, rather than how they do feel, creates anxiety. Books help.
Anneli Dotson grew up in Finland and, afterward, extended her nursing studies to include counseling, community outreach, and education. Her teachers encouraged her to live and work among them, but she longed to help the sick and carry the gospel to others. Fortunately, her parents understood her desire to become a missionary and supported her decision to go, first, to Africa and, later, to other parts of the world.
For those who love Christmas music, as I do, there are many opportunities to hear great pieces this season, both online, on the radio and television, and in person.
Imagine a tourist town near to us that is similar in atmosphere to Dahlonega and Helen, Ga. or Gatlinburg, Tenn. Imagine decorated streets, great places to eat, and interesting historical sites and stories. Cave Spring is such a place and only a short distance away from Calhoun and Cleburne counties. When saying “Cave Spring,” don’t add an “s.” In this town, there is only one spring; and it is an important one because it supplies sweet, clean water to area residents even during droughts.
Learning about Alabama history and new places on a sunny, colorful fall day was the focus for a group of people traveling in a van with Harry Holstein, a Jacksonville State University professor.
My best friend says that I am an experimental cook, and she is right. I am a rather creative person, and I have a hard time sticking to recipes.
Recently I stumbled into an informative event when I drove to Mt. Cheaha to sample chili at the annual cook-off. I had arrived early, so I decided to walk down the boardwalk. Lo and behold, Smokey Bear was standing near the boardwalk entrance, all seven feet of him. Smokey gave me a hug.
I saw two new neighbors walking their two dogs recently. They made a wholesome scene as they exercised with their two large dogs. Suddenly, I noticed the white dog had only three legs. He was keeping up with and even walking ahead of the second dog, in spite of having to hop a bit. I approached the couple and introduced myself. I learned that they are Chelsey Randle and Wade Daus. I asked how they came to have a three-legged pet. We set up an interview, and I visited in their living room, except that Wade was at work.
The life of Clyde and Lorene Braxton reminds everyone who knew them of the couple from the movie “The Notebook.” They were close in love and devotion to each other and their family for more than 63 years. Also, like the couple in the movie, the Braxtons died a day apart.